Always Fated
by DanDanTheWritingFan
Summary: Armed with the knowledge that Voldemort will die regardless, Harry chooses to enter the world of the dead – only it doesn't quite work out like he plans.. Or, the one where peace is just a passing phase, normal is relative, and Thanatos and Aphrodite get a new son. Literal God!Harry. Eventual crossover between HP/PJ, and the Marvel Universe. M 'cause I'm paranoid. More info within.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Always Fated.

 **Crossover:** Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and Marvel. **(Which, as the disclaimer, I own none of.)**

 **Summary:** Armed with the knowledge that Voldemort will die regardless, he chooses to stay within the world of the dead – only it doesn't work out quite like that. Marked by Death itself, Harry finds himself face to face with its Greek personification, Thanatos, who offers him a job.  
A HP/Percy-J/Marvel crossover, and literally God!Harry – though, by no means perfect!Harry.

 **AN:** This is pretty much the result of a hallucination/dream I had when I was ill. I woke up and decided I loved the theory of it all – especially since I've been on a Harry Potter and Percy Jackson/Harry Potter and Avengers crossover obsession. I went through everything I'd written up in my "just-getting-over-my-medicine-induced-randomness and fevered-illness" stage and somewhat corrected things and tidied it up, but the main plot points and general ideas are still the same. I haven't altered those in any way for the main reason that I have a habit of over thinking things when I re-read my own work and then tend to decide I hate it all and then press _delete._ So, yeah, because I want to actually finish this, I'm just going to write it all out and then edit and alter _later._ I feel it's not terrible, though, so I'm happy to leave it for now; it does kind of just jump right in, though...

 **Something you might what a clarification on: T** his is an AU, so in this world (where Harry chooses death), Doctor Strange does _not,_ nor will ever have, the soul gem (for soon-to-be obvious reasons) and some other things may/will be different. Also, in this AU, Harry's earth (which will also be the earth in which Percy Jackson is born) will _not_ be Midgard. Therefore, there are two planets that are very similar, but have developed differently, which both call themselves Earth. Marvel land will thus be called "Midgard", and Earth shall remain as Harry's planet "Earth".

 **Estimated Parts and Fandom Appearances (if you want to know before reading):** _Part One_ is pretty much Harry getting his feet as a [spoiler] etc. etc. _Part Two_ is the Percy Jackson's Plot line. _Part Three_ is the Heroes of Olympus. THEN there will be A TIME GAP, possibly a chapter or two explaining that time passing. Then, _Part Four_ is Thor and the Avengers. _Part Five_ is Thor: Dark World, which mentions of Guardians of the Galaxy. _Part Six_ is Avengers: Age of Ultron. And so on. This – hopefully – will be a _long_ but not boring fic (hopefully). If you could let me know if things _do_ get boring, I'd be grateful.

Now, another point, Harry will NOT always be actively involved in all books/films. He may just hear about somethings and help where he can, or he may hear about it, voice his worry and be incapable of doing anything else. So, if you want Harry-the-Hero being the Only Hero this is not for you. Harry will always want to try and help, but sometimes he won't be able to – and sometimes the only thing that will stop him is his knowledge that he _needs_ to do something else, instead. That he just _needs_ to let that other thing be.

All Canon pairings **for now** ; they will not remain indefinite **.** If you like any specific pairings let me know and I'll ponder on it. Same if your against any set pairing.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! If you don't- because I know this won't be for everyone - I hope you find something you _do_ like. And, also, feel free to leave me a review telling me what you think of things, and I mean all the positive _and_ negative – constructive criticism will be brilliant ( _so, so brilliant)_. Hopefully, no flames, though...?

Anyway, thanks! :) Onwards!

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 **Always Fated.**

 **.**

 **Part One**

 **.**

" _... Will they be able to defeat him?"_

" _Of course, they will, my dear boy. You have made sure of that."_

 **.**

 **1 –**

 **.**

Harry James Potter gets on a train and does not know what to expect. He looks to his old headmaster, who is seated beside him, and notes that although the man is still smiling sadly, there is no condemning emotion within his eyes – and rightly so, the boy thinks, with all things considered. He still finds himself explaining, though, for whatever reason, even if the only words that pass his lips are the smallest part of the truth.

"I feel like I need to go in this direction." He says quietly, and in response, the man simply eyes him, those blue orbs seeing through him, as always. He supposes that, it truth, is answer enough. Perhaps an agreement on Harry's own thoughts; that it is not his place to say one way or another, is not his place to voice on what Harry does or doesn't feel, or what Harry does or does not do.

This one decision, after all, is all Harry choice, and seconds ago, he made it.

"It is time for me to get off." Dumbledore says instead, and smiles at Harry's brief confusion. It does not feel as if it is time for this train to stop, after all - at least, not for him. Dumbledore nods to him, as if the thought is written across his features. "It is my stop, but it is not yours. I'm afraid I cannot go on to that part with you. That, alas," he shrugs, with his usual benign smile, "is something only you can do. But know this, Harry, I have a feeling that you, least of all, have anything to fear from it. Not that I imagine it would halt you, even if you did." The man smiles again and stands, as Harry digests that, his spirit moving far easier and smoother without its aged body confining it. "We will all see you soon, though, I should expect. I imagine your parents for one will look forward to seeing you again."

Harry smiles a little, his heart soaring at that remark, with hope and nerves – he thinks he should quite like to see them again, too. Though, he still swallows a little at the concept - at the fact that this is, well and truly, his After Life, and that he will face everyone lost to the war. That this is his everything after meeting Death. He blinks a little, focusing on that thought, and relishes in the feeling of contentment that flows within and around him, due to it.

"I don't think there's anything for me to fear, either." He admits – not from Death, anyway. He can feel there is something more, something more to this situation, something more to come from this point. Yet in this place, in this space of white light and love and easy emotions, he can't help but simply expect it – respect it, almost. "To the next adventure." Harry echoes a memory, looking towards his old mentor, and feeling that the words are completely correct in this situation.

"To the next adventure." Dumbledore easily agrees. "Goodbye for now then, Harry." The man bows slightly to him, and then it is almost as if the man was never there in the first place. He neither dissolves before Harry's eyes, nor exits the trains doors. He is just no longer there. Harry, for whatever reason, feels that he is fine, though. That he has probably simply returned to his family. To his younger sister, perhaps. He feels it so truly, in fact, that he almost takes it for knowing.

He smiles at the idea, at the hope that the man has finally found his peace, before he contentedly continues on his journey alone.

Not long after, however, something within him, something similar to intuition flickers through, and with a nervous shiver, following his old professors movements, he begins pulling himself to his feet.

This is it, he reckons. This is his stop.

Another adventure, something whispers to him.

Another adventure, he agrees.

White soon fades into darkness and darkness blazes into multicolour.

 **.**

The first thing Harry sees, as his eyes clear from the brightness, is the somewhat odd sight of a tall man stood straight backed before him, with a clipboard in hand – though, in all honesty, for Harry to call him such seems like an understatement. There is clearly something extra, something more, to the man - the _being -_ that dons the size and the guise of a mortal human, and it is something that he finds himself recognising, in an almost comforting confusing kind of way. As if he has just come home after a too powerful confundus charm to the head, and abruptly found a lost cherished item, he isn't truly sure he actually owned. It creates a happy barely understanding fondness within him, that echoes through him, lending more contentness. A part of him, he finds, even wants to melt at the man's feet and hug him dearly.

"Harry James Potter." The being greets, with a small barely there smile.

It is not a question, Harry knows, but he clears his throat, and admits, "That's me.", with an odd impulse to flatten his hair, all the same – and it is odd, isn't it? He suddenly realises. Because his body is no longer with him, and therefore, neither is his unruly mop of Potter locks or his throat to clear.

"It is nice to see you so soon." The being adds welcomingly, and Harry notes, even as the appearance of the average man abruptly wavers and the new form suddenly becomes clear to his eyes - dark long hair, dark pleasing features and large, truly amazing black wings - that the words ring completely true; the male infront of him seems to genuinely like that he is here with him, today. That he chose the choice he did. Harry briefly wonders if its odd that he finds that it makes him relieved.

"I am Thanatos." He tells Harry, vanishing the clipboard with a twitch of his hand, and Harry feels a deep understanding ring within his soul. He had studied many religions at his old primary school, after all, and he even found himself favouring this one.

"The Greek God of Peaceful Death." Harry quotes, and, odd or not, he is simply more awed then surprised.

It is much easier, he thinks, taking things in stride once your world has already been shaken about and rearranged – and his world has already been altered like that many times, before this; Magic doesn't exist, he hears echo in his head, and then the correction of magic _does_ exist. Then, of course, when he is twelve and the "chamber is merely a myth", but it turns out the chamber is _not_ a myth and neither is the basilisk within. Sirius Black is a murderer... It has happened time and again to him. Year after year. So, yes, he decides fairly quickly, without any denial at all, that meeting a god, after following Death, shouldn't be - isn't, at all - shocking. It doesn't stop his nerves from reverberate through him, though. A normal reaction, he reckons.

Thanatos nods his head, once, in agreement, smiling that smile down at him, while his dark eyes seem to look straight into everything Harry is, or could ever be, and for a second - a split moment in time - Harry thinks he sees fascination there in his gaze. It is gone as quickly as it comes, however - if it actually was there at all. "I'm glad you are a believer. It saves time in one sense, even if time doesn't matter right now."

The god gestures for him to sit, and Harry abruptly notices that there are two large golden chairs about him, one directly behind Thanatos, and one besides him, and that there is a desk, filled with paperwork, inbetween them. It looks, now Harry is looking, as if they are in a very large circular red painted room, that looks suspiciously like a modern office, in old Greek settings. He spends the next few seconds, the ones he takes walking to the specified chair, to quickly take it all in. He muses, eyeing the paper towers, that maybe even a god of Death has to do some form of homework. He finds, for whatever reason, that the thought depresses him.

"Thanks." Harry tells him quietly, feeling strange as he climbs onto the chair. His feet dangle off it, not quite making it to the floor, and making him feel far closer to a child than he really is. Harry admits that anyone would probably feel like an infant seated before an immortal divinity, though. The passing fact causing him to ponder why he is here, before him, at all.

"Is this a Judgement?" Harry asks, almost as if compelled. He remembers learning about that in his Year Five primary class, as well. Only isn't there supposed to be more than one judge?

Thanatos grins at him, and it looks almost fond. "No." He tells him, before adding, "If you _were_ to be Judged by me, though, I think I'd take you straight to Elysium."

Harry ponders a little at that, shifting in his spot, as he tries to remember which form of souls go to that After Life. "The ordinary" is his first thought, but… No, that's not right, is it? It's the Heroes, he realises.

"Oh." Harry says, flushing uncomfortably, for whatever reason. "I… well, I only ever did what I felt I had to do..." He trails off, and the god easily agrees.

"But you still risked your life to save a girl you didn't truly know from a mortally wounding troll at eleven. You still faced a dark one without care for yourself, only the world at large, months later. You still went down in to a chamber, faced a thousand-year-old King Serpent, to save your friend's sister. You still saved your godfather, where others had not. You still faced adversity and came through it stronger, remaining true to yourself. If those are not heroic, then what is? And," he adds, "that is not adding in how you died – or how many lives you went on to save by doing it. By _how_ you did it."

Suddenly burning brighter, Harry supposes, when the list is brought up like that, that the god is possibly right in his reasoning. Still, he doesn't really seem heroic to himself… Brave, sure. Or maybe foolishly reckless?

"You are good man, Harry Potter." Thanatos states. "Do not ever doubt it - it is simply in your nature. _And_ you faced Death with clear acceptance, which is somewhat rare, especially in youth, so personally I'm a fan. No whinging, at all. And more importantly still – at least, for why you are here, with me, right now – you managed to resisted _its_ temptation, even after holding it for a year and using it – an impossible feat for most." There is definitely fascination there now, Harry decides, as he blinks, confused. The silent question must grace his face.

"The Gem. The Stone. The one in the Snitch." Thanatos explains. "Found and named as the Resurrection Stone, I think, to your Wizarding world."

 _Oh. That._ Harry nods, still feeling a rise in his confusion. "Well, yeah." He says in the resulting silence. "It – er, well, it kind of made sense when I was walking to Death - to you? That it shouldn't be used. I mean – at least… not by me? I guess I got the feeling it could be used for a lot, but… well, it helped me, but I shouldn't use it, I don't think."

" _Exactly_." Thanatos agrees whole heartedly, leaning forwards in his seat, and Harry hears the gods earlier words of "w _hy you are here"_ echo through to the forefront of his mind. With a sudden flicker of uneasy, yet strangely content understanding, he begins to believe that a lack of life doesn't necessarily mean being at _peace_.

 _The next adventure..._ Echoes through his head, again - only this time it seems like the voice is not his.

"It helped you, willingly and easily," The god continues, staring intently at him, "and it didn't negatively affect you or your soul, in any way, while it did so. You don't feel the need to covet it or use it. It doesn't call to you, at all."

Harry, feeling rather disturbed at those words, momentarily forgets his thought process, and wonders what, exactly, the resurection stone could have done to his soul, and why nobody bothered to state anything like that within its expanding legends. He debates on whether to ask, debates on whether he really wants to know, but Thanatos continues on before he can decide, either way.

"Death," He speaks softly, "- and I do mean _Death_ , as in the vast and ever being, the Entity, not a specific personification with Death's blessing, like me… and now you – seems pleased and hopeful by that. Somewhat relieved, in fact. I felt it – just as I felt it when you were Marked by Death as a toddler, directly after the dark one tried to kill you the first time and she refused to take you early, with the help of Love. Just as I felt you accept her Mark, minutes ago, when you chose Death over living your full life on the mortal plane. I felt it echo and settle within you, around you."

"You have a new fate now, Harry, if you decide to take it." The god states bluntly, folding his hands onto the tabletop. "And like every path, it is a double edge sword."

 _Marked by Death? What does that even mean_? He was thinking, only at that latter sentence, he feels something more akin to his previous uneasy understanding re-flutter within. It makes sense, he finds, and not simply due to the words spoken, either, but to the sudden resonance of a silent plead that abruptly reverberates within his very essence. A sudden plead that is abruptly there, but not _for_ him, or _from_ him, but _to_ him, instead. A plead for what, Harry doesn't yet know, but he does know that he has never been able to deny those kinds of pleads.

He sighs carefully, near silently and nervous, before making a gesture to show that he's listening. This - this is going to be important, he feels, and possibly, probably, the reason he felt he should cross over in the first place.

"She - Death" Thanatos clarifies, his voice suddenly falling with a brilliant smooth gentle severity, "- wants to know if you will help her. You see, the gem itself is far greater and far more important than any of the mortals ever thought to comprehend. It needs to be protected from those who would use it to destroy _all_ , and tipping the balance far too far in the other direction _._ We need to re-establish the balance, yes, but as the future is set, countless galaxies will fall. And so, it needs to be kept and hidden - at least, for now." He pauses, eyeing Harry's extremely still form, and in that moment it feels like eons pass him by. "Will you help her hide it? Protect it? _"_

Harry's not-really-there breath is slowly released. _Maybe I was Marked by Chaos, too?_ He wonders slowly, for the first time in his memory feeling paralysing shock, before wondering why anyone, let alone a god or entity, would need _him,_ of all people, to help with anything like that, anyway. Galaxies will fall? How could he help stop that? Thanatos smiles amusedly, as if he wonders it aloud, and finds it funny.

The god then tells him, time seeming to slow to pass eons once more, that he is allowed as long as he needs to think it over, if he pleases, and to ask him any question that he has.

 _That will probably take more than a few months,_ Harry admits silently, closing his not-there eyes in a mixture of stunned thought and strange lulling acceptance. Everything in him, every part of himself, feels as if he should have - and maybe a part of him did - expect something like this. It is just his type of luck - or trouble calling personality?

Sighing, he opens his eyes, and catches the look the god is gracing him with, the one that tells him quite clearly that he already assumes what Harry's answer will be.

He supposes, after everything he's done in his life, after every instinct he has had to protect others, he is right to assume it so easily. He has already stated, after all, his acts in the name of saving people from a doomed fate, and he has an feeling that this is no different – only apparently much larger in scale. The silent plead in his gut agrees.

"Will it definitely come to that?" Harry asks, thinking of divnation, and already somehow knowing the answer. Already _feeling_ it. There will always be Grindlewald's and Voldemort's, after all, he whispers to himself. "Someone finding it and using it destroy galaxies? Is it possible?"

"Not only possible, Harry, but someone already wants to." Is Thanatos easy response, and Harry thinks: _Of course, there is._

"How would I even go about protecting it, though? Or hiding it?" He marvels, panic erupting in the back of his conscious. _There's apparently someone who wants to destroy whole galaxies ,and they think_ I _can help?_

Why do people always think he is capable of great things?

"I mean, I'm not – I'm not that powerful. _I'm not."_ He adds, to the man's annoyingly disbelieving look.

"You are." Thanatos tells him, and his wings twitch almost irritably while he does. "Your soul has been Marked by Death, just as mine has, and you are also Marked by Love, and Marked by Magic. Your soul was powerful even in your mortal body; the only difference between you and I is that you chose not to _act_ on that power that you wield. The fact that you chose _not_ to do so, doesn't mean you _cannot_ do so, should you desire it; only that you chose a different path _._ You have power – not to mention your own skills - and it should be enough should you choose this path."

Marked by Love and Magic, too?

Harry blinks almost owlishly and stares at him, absorbing the words. Only, "That doesn't really answer my previous questions, though." In fact, he is aptly reminded of Dumbledore and his never ending conversations of non-answers.

"And I will not answer them until you choose one way or the other." The god states.

 _Of course you won't..._ "You already know I'll probably help, though –" Harry accuses weakly, because as already stated _it's in his nature_ , and he _is_ actually thinking of accepting. Kind-of.

"The choice should still be yours to say so, though. Be it agreement, or no." Gets quickly shot back, and Harry respects that at least.

He sighs, pulling a hand through his hair, and all but crumpling back into his giant seat, a recurring problematic thought ricochets through his head. "What if I agree to help and fail you all?" Because, let's face it, any plan involving Harry tends to fall completely apart and decend into pure chaos.

"Then you will fail." Thanatos states and shrugs, smiling fondly again. "You will be doing us all a service by at least trying – and," he adds, never encouraging nor discouraging. "you will be rewarded for it."

There is a single beat of silence, while Harry digests that. _Rewarded how?_

He eyes Thanatos and knows that the god wouldn't tell him just yet, should he even bother asking.

"I still want to hug you." Harry replies, abruptly changing the subject and rubbing at his face, while he thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more. Thanatos simply lets out a light laugh in response, but doesn't speak again as his mind whirs.

Harry wonders, as he debates, in the expanding silence, if this really truly is why he came here – why he chose Death and got on the train; this task that is being asked of him. He thinks on that possibility for a while, but still doesn't, can't reallym bring himself to regret his choice. That feeling that he got in the station. This feeling he has now. It still feels right for him, in its own way. Death, over Life.

Harry eventually lets out a breath, knowing that even if he took all the time offered, even if he took centuries, he will likely reach the same conclusion each time he thinks on it. His immediate reaction to help - however annoying he finds it, however frustration it sometimes feels - always seems to win out. He sighs, scrubbing at his eyes, and then declares, quietly but firmly, even as he shrugs grimly, that he'll help.

If only because the stone apparently effects other peoples _souls._

Thanatos smiles widely, and the silent pleading that had been quietly within him earlier, rushes to a wild flow of thanks. "Excellent." The god says, climbing to his feet. "Now I only need to ask someone on Olympus to help us, and for that I will be taking you with me." He tilts his head, and admits, "It might feel a bit strange now that your soul is aware of it, but I'll be putting you back into the White Space, while we go meet her."

"Alright then." Harry says to Thanatos, nervously standing, following his lead, as the other walks over to him.

The god, he sees, seems to grow right before his eyes - or maybe it's that he shrinks? Either way he gets scooped up very easily, and is rather beyond happy to note that the immense content feeling quickly returns to him, as soon as he is, and placed in - of all things - Thanatos' white small drawstring pocket bag.

'Oy, Harry,' he imagines Fred say to him, later, 'why didn't you come visit us straight after you'd died?'

'Er, well, I sort of got pulled into another fiasco and then got put into the bag of a Greek God. Sorry 'bout that.'

Harry rubs at his eyes again, and let's out a light laugh.

.

Minutes or hours pass, and Harry spends his time looking around the familiar halls of a ghostly white Hogwarts, relishing, once again, in the contented atmosphere he is surrounded in. He notes the feelings of movement without seeing it, and listens as his mind reminds him needlessly that he is apparently travelling to the realm of the gods.

He honestly has no idea how he gets into these situations.

He sighs, callapsing in his dorm bed, and soon after Thanatos comes to a stop.

Harry isn't instantly removed, however, and so he decides to lay there, arms outstretched and legs sprawled, while he creates possible ideas on how he is, how he could ever, protect something of this magnitude.

.

He sees the unending white as it fades to Darkness, and then returns into that multi-coloured light. It is a different type from before, though, he observes.

The place he is now in seems far brighter than the last he had entered. Before, once the light had faded, the walls had held a twilight feel – a darkness or night time impression, even in the middle of the day. These spacious walls, on the other hand, seem far brighter to him; all blinding light, and possibly even in the darkest of winters. He is momentarily glad – immensely thankful, even – that he has gotten used to white world, because if he hadn't, the transition between the two, he realises, would have _hurt_.

As it is, Harry still blinks rapidly, for minutes on end, before he is capable of seeing anything but white, and looks around, awed, yet mainly still near blinded.

 _So, this is Olympus._ He thinks, dumbstruck, seeing a sight few other mortals ever would, along with a few types of beings – nymphs and satyr's, mainly, he summaries, squinting about – that even the magical brethren believe extinct.

 _Well, aside from Luna,_ he admits, and suddenly hopes, with an odd amount of zealous, that she manages – has managed? – to make it through that last battle. _People like her are far too rare._

"And this, as you know, is Harry." Thanatos' voice states, interrupting his thought process, and Harry spins around to look at him - only he doesn't really get that far, as midway he is wholly distracted.

Beauty is an understatement, he decides almost fiercely, before flushing in embarrassment, and then grimacing with feelings of guilt. Remember Ginny? His brain whispers, as he watches feminine features quickly and easily blur and spin into varying degrees of absolute perfection.

The woman sat before him, on a cloud like bed, is clearly a goddess – and one that is clearly the personification of the power he is rumoured to feel in abundance. It isn't hard to know who she is with that in mind. Even without it, though, without the beauty and the sheer emotions she invokes, something within him simply _knows,_ somehow _._

"Aphrodite." He greets a little breathlessly, and finds it amazing that without a functioning heart, he can still feel it create phantom pounds within his chest.

The goddess of love smiles at him, wide and happy, and leans over to stare at him. Her ever-changing eyes start from the top of his head and go to the tip of his toes.

"You're right, Thanatos." She says, and her voice is just as perfect and lovely as she is; it is all light, to Harry, all light and wind, and sky, and music, and happy thoughts combined. "He is one of mine. You love fiercely don't you, little dove? I've been watching over you, you know, since that night? I used to watch over your mother, too; she was fire-hearted, a red headed beauty, a lover and warrior, both." She nods brilliantly, and he knows his eyes are wider than when he first caught sight of her. _One of hers_ , he echoes slowly, _and the mentions of his mother!_

"Her romantic love story was marvellous, too." The goddess continues on brightly, either not noticing his stunned stupor, or simply not caring. "Two boys, both vying for her attention, both ready to do almost anything for her. She made the right choice for her, though." She adds, almost wistfully. "James always was much more of her match. I helped grant her that last wish, too, before she died. It was such a tragedy. A bittersweet ending. A fantastic story, though; their young dislike, their eventual love, the war and the dreadful betrayal of one they had trusted, and then, finally, their willing sacrifices as they each died for the family that they fought so hard for." She sighs, and grasps one of the rose petals on the cloud and strokes it, mournfully, while Harry feels heartbreak in the reminisce. Aphrodite pauses, before smiling up at Thanatos, and then turning the look upon him.

"Knowing it's you, I'll agree." She informs him, the words falling gracefully and rapidly from her lips. "I wanted another godly child, anyway." She adds, and Harry blinks, feeling abruptly lost and fairly horrified.

Thanatos simply claps his hands together, and then spreads them wide. "And I've always wanted one." He tells Aphrodite.

"It's a win-win situation." She agrees, turning to blow Harry a kiss. He feels it hit him like a real thing, on his cheek, and he flushes once more. He barely even thinks on their words because of it. Barely. "Aw." She smiles, green to blue eyes watching him. "You're so sweet."

"He is, isn't he?" Thanatos says, fondly. "Now, we need you to hop back into the White Space for a little while, Harry. Too much of Olympus' might hurt you until we've organised things."

Harry blinks at the vast light beaming down at him again, and glances around, thoroughly disappointed at having to leave so soon - and without getting any answers - but nods. Mainly due, he knows, to Aphrodite nodding encouragingly at him.

"Only for a little while." She tells him.

"Alright." He says.

 _It will give me time to ponder what they've said, anyway,_ he thinks ruefully, trying to remember and digest the conversation – and it will be tremendously easier to do so without being distracted by the Goddess of Love.

"Bye." He tells them both in a half whisper, and is quickly returned without much other thought to the white space.

.

It turns out, in all honesty, that godly ideas on what a "little while" is, clashes strongly with Harry's understanding of it. The next time he is scooped out, nine months have apparently passed, as there is a baby in Aphrodite's arms.

He is small, Harry immediately notes, as those phantom pounding sounds beat in his chest, and is no older or bigger than what Teddy's new born-self had been in the few pictures Harry had seen of him. He is also clearly stunningly beautiful, with his tanned to dark features, his dark fluffy hair, and his amazing black wings that produce from the small shoulders and cascade and cocoon around his small body.

"You made a baby?" He whispers, finding himself awed and stunned in equal measure – especially as he has had plenty of time to think (although it didn't feel like nine months of passage, even if it did feel like _a long_ while) in the white place, and has managed to put two and two together.

After all, Thanatos had a plan for him to be able to protect this worryingly powerful Gem, which, to him, firstly means that he would need a body of some kind to do so, else he wouldn't be able to hold it, never mind protect it – a sound conclusion, he had thought, re-pacing the passage way of Gryfindor tower, on the first through fourth day in – and then Aphrodite, the _goddess –_ seriously,how does he really get himself into these things? – says that she had wanted another godly child – _godly!_ His brain echoes – anyway, and Thanatos happily agreed.

Therefore, logically, he thinks, even if Hermione was more of the logic one out of their trio, he realised - and realises still - that creating a child between them, then placing his soul within it, is the soundest idea for the conversations he has had, and overheard. He still tried to assure himself hourly that he was simply crazy and paraniod, though.

Now, however, his hopefully insane reasonings is supported by this baby – this _godly baby_ , apparently _._

He grimaces, though tries to keep it mainly internal, and wonders - well, he wonders many different things, all rushed and mixed together, in a joint ball of panic, but mainly he toys with the sudden thought of whether they are expecting him to grow up from a babe again, in this plan of theirs. He also questions, as he has been for the last however long it has been, if he will be able to talk to his family and friends soon – if he will be able to see them and spend at least a little while with them, before this craziness begins - or before he runs away.

"We did." Aphrodite agrees excitedly, responding to his whisper. "We had to ask Athena how to create a baby from thought alone, though. It's rather exhausting, in truth, but very worth it. You're exactly fifty percent me, and fifty percent Thanatos –"

… _I was undeniably correct, then,_ he mentally states slowly, dazedly and a little horrified, and decides irrevocably that this, right here, this idea of... _immortality,_ is possibly a thoasand times scarier than walking up to Voldemort and accepting the killing curse.

"– You'll have my kaleidoscope eyes," she continues, again seemingly unaware of his emotional turmoil, "though we've made sure they'll likely settle more to the brilliant emerald green of your old eyes when anyone focuses on them. To remind you of your first life; I knew you'd love that."

That is kind, he admits, staring at her, and gulping a little.

"You'll have my wings, too." Thanatos points out, sounding so fond of the idea that Harry pauses and stares nonplussed for a second.

He is truly planned to be their child,he mentally grasps; this is the _actual_ plan. It isn't just some half-thought out plausible possibility he had thought up within the Soul bag, white space, whatever, in content boredom. And more strangely to him, as he watches them practically gush, is that they seem to actually _want_ him to be their child. _That,_ he thinks, _is utter madness._ He imagines what Uncle Vernon would say about it, but rightly believes that the man wouldn't be able to get anything out due to his too purple, raging face. "You do like to fly, don't you?" Thanatos says, as if double checking, while gently stroking at the small feathers surrounding the infant.

He seems to be missing Harry's panic, too. Or, Harry tells himself, is simply ignoring it. Or maybe this is them being polite and pretending not to notice his embarrassing fish impressions?

Aphrodite smiles at him, and his brain mushes a bit more; his panic momentarily halts "He _loves_ it, don't you, little dove?"

"I…I do." Harry gets out. He _does_ love to fly. And now he is going to have wings. And ever changing eyes.

He lets out a breath, and decides that this is all happening very fast – only, he knows, it isn't really. It feels like he has been in that white space for at least a month or three, and has spent it coming to semi-terms with the idea; it really _was_ the only conclusion that made any sense to him, with the sentences he'd witnessed and the facts that he could guess at. It is different though, it seems, thinking of it in a bag of divine calming draught, and facing eternal life full on without it.

He finds himself rubbing at his neck, nervous and self-questioning his choice, even with Aphrodite's now brown eyes on him, as he thinks about all the possible consequences of godly-hood. He manages to listen, though – which he does, surprisingly well – as they both happily explain to him his soon-to-be physical make-up.

He nods in all the right places as they speak, and hm's and ah's, and all in all, applauds himself for not stopping them, with, "I don't want to be a god." and running away. Death, in all honesty, seems to help on that front, as he keeps getting the feeling that he _needs_ to agree to this part if he still _wants_ to help (not that he _has_ to help, he knows, is told repeatedly) – as does their honestly genuine happiness at the prospect of him becoming their blood.

It is still overwhelming. And strange. And nerve-wracking.

 _A god._

More so, even, as he listens as they describe his possible powers, the ones that he'll possibly inherit from them – "A bond with Death, which you already have. You might start knowing when someone is close to Death, too," Thanatos states. "and how to take them on to the underworld." or "The feelings of those in love, images of their relationships, how to help them," Aphrodite smiles. "or the ability to match-make, speaking French, having Charm speech – with Love there are many possibilities." – along with the fact that he will, at some point, find his _own_ domain.

"It might be linked with Death or Love, or both, but it mainly results from who you are, as well. Whatever your domain will become though, you will become as much its possession as you are its embodiment. If something happens to your domain, you will feel it, too." Thanatos tell him, seriously.

"Okay." Harry replies just as seriously, if only to prove his listening skills, before they move on to something else that he'll need to know. He realises they are telling him now, rather than after he goes through with it, as a service to him. He relaxes a little, at that knowledge.

"Could I still visit my friends and family, then?" Harry interjects when they reach the discussion of the divine laws. He is hoping to see his parents, and Sirius, and Fred, and… well, everyone, soon, after all.

"Of course," Thanatos agrees, blinking, "although there are certain rules when it comes to interfering with mortal affairs, as they were laid down by the lightening wielder."

Aphrodite nods quickly in complete agreement. "You can only interfere to a point," She intones, sipping her drink of golden liquid, gifted to her by a nymph, as she organises her art designs. "as he doesn't like us interfering _too_ much."

"Wait." He says, coming up a _bsolutely_ short, then. Mortal affairs? Those on…? He thinks quickly and urgently,"So… I could go and interfere a little on…? I could go and talk to someone alive? I could… I could go on earth?"

 _Why - why didn't I wonder about this sooner?_ He thinks furiously. Because if that is the case – if that is the case, then he could talk to his alive friends, too? As well as the dead?

He rubs at his forehead, his brain going haywire over the single possibility, only Aphrodite distracts him utterly by laughing. It is a brilliant sound – perfect, and full of tinkling charms, and rushing wind.

He looks at her, and sees blond hair blur to red.

"You can even go as far as sleeping with them." She states amusedly to him, rocking the babe in her arms, before smiling dazzlingly at his rapidly flushing cheeks. "Demi-God's _are_ created somehow, little dove. Well, _most_ of are conceived by sex. Not all, though. So, don't think you _have_ to sleep with a person to create a child." She lifts future-him up as reference, then lowers him again, to coo. Thanatos's lips twitch. And Harry? Harry is simply astonished.

He could seriously speak to them all, he comprehends. He was chosen by Death and chose Death in return, and he is still going to be able - if he chooses it - to return to the living world for a while, or for however long he wants, to make sure they are all okay – or as okay as can be, with all things considered.

He knows he'll be lying completely if he says that the thought alone doesn't make him feel lighter – and somewhat fortifies the idea for him – about becoming an immortal being.

Although, he still wants to know how he is supposed to be hiding _it_ , even if the new him seems like he'll have more outward power to help with the protection _._ He debates – silently, of course – if he should start thinking about wearing that old snitch on a bracelet or something.

Still. Harry bites his lip.

 _A god..._

"What - what do I have to do?" he asks. "To become…" He nods towards the baby. "And, er, do I really have to, you know, grow up again? It was kind of bad enough the first time…" He pauses for a moment and then decides to just ask specifically to Thanatos. "And how do I get _it?_ " It is still in the forest, after all – at least, he thinks it is… _Hopes_ it is – especially, if it really is, or can be, as dangerous as Death suggests... As dangerous as he _feels_ it could be in the right situation.

"Oh. Didn't we go over that part?" His, well, his apparently new mother states cheerfully – a _goddess_ is going to be his _mother._ "Simply touch the body, and Death, Thanatos and I will help - and that terrible childhood you were forced to endure," She adds more seriously, sorrow swimming in her violet eyes, and when Harry looks in to them, caught and trapped, he sees what a loving childhood _could_ be reflected there. "is more than enough reason to have another one, isn't it?"

There is a beat of silence, and Harry breathes out a breath. He re-thinks the possible pro's and con's for that – for all of it, truly – and she looks at him so hopefully ecstatic, that he can't help but cave, regardless of his dislike at being a child once more.

"That's not fair." He still manages to point out weakly, though. Grimly stating to himself, that his urge to please her better ease up with the time in her presence, or her DNA. He suddenly understands with much clearer clarity Ron's problem with Veela, and feels a lot more sympathetic.

Thanatos just looks down at him with amusement, neither helping him nor persuading him, and says, in answer to his third question, "You already do – or, should I say, you _will_ do _."_

There is another beat of silence, this time longer, and for the echo of it, confusion builds.

 _What?_ He thinks, and the god smiles slightly, before he looks to the babe with soft eyes, and Harry gathers it's an explanation.

He watches, curious, as the elder steps towards it and strokes its right ankle – _is it there? –_ before pulling out a dagger, and carefully parting a small layer of the skin beneath the bone. Harry sees, as it is lifted, that a stone is clearly within – and he _feels_ it is the one that he had parted with not that long ago.

Harry puts a hand through his hair, and nods slowly in understanding. It will be within him – hidden in plain sight. Alright.

"Do not speak of it after this day." Thanatos says, as he pushes the skin back together, just before drops of golden blood leaks out, and heals it easily. "The only way to get it out is to know it is there and to specifically cut it from you. If it has been taken against your will and you have not been scattered, you will be able to get it back, as you'll feel it. Magical interference that is stronger than your own may interfere with that, in which case you'll have to hunt and fight for it. Or give up."

He meets Harry's eyes again, and Harry nods, considering.

"Are we ready then?" Aphrodite asks, hugging the body to her chest.

Harry swallows and realises that this is the moment of truth. He remains silent and thinks, before abruptly blowing out a breath and resolves to do what he always does; jump recklessly in.

His hand rises and he touches a bare patch of skin before he can change his mind. It burns slightly, strangely, under his grasp, and he gasps as a golden white light surrounds them both, body and spirit. It seems just as bright and fierce to Harry as Olympus is, but far more all-encompassing. He hears, next, Thanatos chant something under his breath, and feels the arms, which suddenly surround him, tighten slightly, before Aphrodite, too, begins to sing something softly of her own. In the background there is almost another echo - a greater one - that leads them its support, agreement and help.

He feels – _and isn't that a scary and strange thing,_ he thinks uncertainly – his spirit seem to _alter_ some how. He feels it as he begins to fill the whole space at their joint intonation. He feels everything as the body - _his_ body - seems to align with him, in a way that it wouldn't have without them.

He feels his actually-there-and-not-just-imagined-anymore eyelids flutter open carefully and so very heavily, for a slight suspended instant in time, and sees two quiet smiling deities staring down at him, mouths moving, before they quickly fall shut again.

 _It's working,_ he thinks thoroughly dazed.

He passes out before anything else is said or done.

.

 **.**

 **AN: So, thoughts? Is anyone seeming to ooc? Is it rushed?**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Firstly, thank you for all of the reviews, favourites and follows! I really appreciate it and I'm glad you like this story. I've read them all, and although I couldn't write back due to lack of time, know that I hopefully will soon.

Also, this part - like the first chapter - has been somewhat corrected from the "just-getting-over-my-medicine-induced-randomness and fevered-illness" stage. I hope you all enjoy it!

 **.**

 **Always Fated**

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 **Part One**

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 **2-**

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When Harry next opens his eyes, it is to a deep gnawing hunger that scratches at his empty stomach and he cries out in sudden surprise. It is like, in all honesty, that he has managed to forget this feeling over the months that he has been gone from a body, this feeling of immense hunger and the pangs that come with it. The pain is almost stunning, he thinks, almost as stunning, in fact, as when he realises his own sobs sound so very lyrical and lovely to his new ears. He whimpers a little at the fact, and tries to look around for help, but only sees blurry gold cocooning him fully.

He should have asked about new born godling children,he realises, suddenly feeling terrible for babies and their lack of ability, as he fails to do move than flail about.

Are divine children like their mortal kin? He wonders, with a small amount of panic. Do they have long before their eyesight clears up? Do they have to wait months before they can control their movements?

He hears a woman suddenly coo at him from his right, and he feels, rather than sees, who it is – that this is technically his new mother. Love rolls around her, encircles her, and kisses at her skin. Even if he cannot see her immense beauty with these new eyes, his every understanding states that it is Aphrodite.

"It's alright." She croons to him, and messes with his golden cocoon, causing it to fade, and the light of Olympus to blare at him in full – only it is not so painfully bright anymore, he registers, but comforting in a slightly peculiar way. The first of many changes, he thinks ruefully, as he next sees the blur of her figure, while she leans in closer to take a hold of him. He feels her hands, soft and tender, scoop under his neck and under his body, and he is lifted.

"I imagine this is very strange for you." She muses, holding him up in front of her face, so he sees her appearing navy greying eyes, dark skin and full lipped smile. "I imagine you're really hungry, too. Thanatos said you will feel it terribly, even though it's only been so little time since you'd died."

Harry whimpers again in agreement, more accidentally than intentionally, and those brilliant eyes soften, "I'll get you something to drink then, my little dove, don't you fret." She pulls him closer, and he feels a flitter of panic, mingled with hope, as she pulls out a blurry bottle filled with that golden liquid that her and Thanatos had been such fans off - the liquid he'd been told to aviod before. He moans slightly, as the growling gnawing in his belly only seems to increase, until the teat is in his mouth and he is drinking - or more like suckling.

He decides not to feel embarrassed by it, after the third gulg; there is nothing embarrassing about a baby needed help, after all, he reckons. Though, he decides, flushing still, that he'll try and communicate if it's possible for him to grow at a quicker rate for a while – something almost instinctively tells him that he can, so long as he Wills himself to, and he finds his mind helpfully pointing out that he did only cave to agreeing to the childhood, and not to the baby years.

Because, really? How is he to protect anything like this?

He drinks the liquid as fast as he is able, which isn't really very fast at all with his tiny mouth, and he marvels, now he is paying attention, over it tasting like Mrs Weasley's treacle tarts and butterbeers on cold Hogsmeade Weekends. It reminds him firmly of _home_ , and he abruptly understands the obsession with it. He even feels a little disappointed that it takes only a little more of it to fill him completely up and soon, not a minute later, he is spitting the teat back out again, and turning his head.

"Feel better now?" Aphrodite asks, lifting him up and placing him up against her body, his chin falling neatly on the top of her shoulder, turned towards her neck, and his little feet only hitting her thighs as she sits. He gurgles an awkward affirmative, and then flushes again, when she begins to pat his back gently, just in-between his wings, and he burbs as a result.

Is that normal for babies? He silently asks, heated with embarrassment – though he knows he won't get any answer about it, either way. Not that it matters, he reckons, as he hears other people – nymphs and satyrs, he guesses – loudly enter the space that they are in, and hears Aphrodite greet them all eagerly, distracting him fully with a building impending panic, at thier joyful awed comments and twitching fingers.

He tries to shift as best he can and wriggles in a terrible attempt to escape, as he listens to them rush to crowd him, cooing and fussing over him, while his mother – _which is a term that is strangely easy to think_ – replies to their continuous gushes, agreeing over how perfect he is, what with his little feet, little wings, and beautiful soul.

He wonders idly, if very uncomfortably, as they maul him slightly, if he were to do something disgusting, would they think the same of him then? But he realises quickly enough, remembering Aphrodite's effect on people, that they probably would, and still look to him just as wonderstruck and interested. He guesses, uneasily, that being the Boy-Who-Lived for six known years is finally going to help him somehow – he knows how to ignore people's intense stares and get on with his existence, if nothing else, from it.

"We're going to go and see Thanatos soon." Aphrodite eventually interrupts, smiling, once the majority of the masses have calmed to a degree, leaving Harry's new-born self thoroughly tired, if slightly content with the outcome and plenty self-conscious, too; content, because of the feelings of love he is tightly wrapped up in, and self-conscious because he finds himself grasping more seriously that he is in the arms of a goddess and is clearly a full fifty percent of her DNA, now. In all honesty, he reckons that he'll never get used to that idea - that _fact_ \- even with decades or millenia, and another part of him even questions, as she turns that blinding smile down at him, if he has simply been dreaming all of this up, and will awake in the Hogwarts infirmary, any second now, under Madam Pomfrey's strict glare and his friend's relieved smiles.

He only has to remember the flash of a specific green light that flew at his chest, for him to easily toss the theory out, however. It leaves him abruptly heartbroken when he does so, and he feels it in a more fuller, truer way, now. He knows that it is both due to him not being dead anymore, felling the oddly vast separation from life that Death brings, and because he is now technically a part of Love itself - has a stronger tie. He feels it so strongly, but also feels - _knows -_ on a baser level, that the powerful feeling of loss is a good thing, if only because the emotion proves that his love for them is still there, and that they meant - _mean_ , and likely always will - something to him.

The goddess that is holding him makes a sound in the back of her throat, hearing or feeling his sudden building despairing and understanding, and rocks him gently, murmuring words of comfort - words that he feels echo within.

"And you haven't really lost any of them." She reminds him gently, as she climbs to her feet. "You will see those who still live on the earth, as soon as you are taught how to get there. Correct?" She smiles at him assuringly and his heart melts, as is his apparent usual reaction; the effect he is pleased to note, while not necessarily lesser in anyway, is far easier to deal with. "Not to mention, that The Silent One will allow you entrance into his domain indefinitely, and grant you a home within the underworld for as long as you desire it - and," she adds, a little more sombrely, "if it comes to it, you will know that if they choose re-birth as you have done, that it is their own choice and right to do so."

Harry gurgles lowly – he knows that she is right, he _feels_ it after all. Still, he snuggles into the crook of her neck at the knowledge, unconsciously seeking more comfort.

She laughs, lightly yet joyfully, though he freezes at his unexpected movement.

"Come on then." She says, hugging him in return and begins to walk. "We're going to find your father - though, quickly, before we leave, another fact about domains; a god or goddess cannot take another's domain, and they cannot enter it without permission. Which is why, for last night, you spent the night with me, here, as Thanatos needed to get Hades' acceptance for you to return there. I should point out that I can't go into Hades domain, ever, because he doesn't let me in – _not_ that I'd want to go there most of the time, anyway. He'd never allow my floating clouds or my art. But still… _"_ She sighs and pouts a little, but with an easy shrug, moves on with what he is gathering is her usual happy flair, as he blinks comprehendingly. He feels, if only silently, that he finds that a bit mean - that she isn't allowed within. "It's another of the Divine rules we started discussing yesterday," She continues, moving him into a more comfortable posistion. "- and one that's fairly important, but I'll explain more about that later. For right now, just know that we're meeting him in the mortal plane, because of it – and then we'll find a place we're we can teach you the things you want to know. And then, _after that -_ or tomorrow if you'd prefer to go to the underworld instead - we'll show you a place where you can go if you ever just want to get away, but still want to be surrounded by people who can understand your new life, or just want to learn how to fight. It also happens to be," she states conspiringly, "where you can takeany future Demi-God's you have, too – so, you know, you should _definitely_ take a look around, if only for their sakes. You can meet your siblings while you're there, as well! It's a brilliant plan, don't you think?"

In response, Harry finds himself gurgling a little in a polite reply, but is too busy blinking, slightly startled, at the latter part of the paragraph to put much meaning behind it - especially considering his contemplating of his previous thoughts, and now _future children and siblings_ is added to the whirlwind his emotions are becoming. His mind repeats the sentenses slowly, and it serves to distract him utterly, at any rate. _He has_ siblings, _now_ –? Wait. Of course, he does! Eros is a godly one, right?

He sighs listlessly into her neck, and listens more intently as she continues talking in the same regard, while she walks them away to wherever they are going to meet Thanatos. It is only afterwards, when she quickly moves on to mention his short and accurately detailed list of "mortal relationships" and his romantic life, and asks him many unanswerable questions that makes his cheeks flare, and offers him up advise depending on his hue shade, that he realises that she is likely doing it all intentionally - purposefully distracting him from his saddest thoughts.

He can't help but relax into her at the realisation, and he momentarily willingly accepts it all within his brain - if only for a brief minute. That this, this right here, really isn't - and couldn't ever be - a dream. That he willingly _died_ and was willingly _reborn_ , and now, Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, is really his new parent, along with Thanatos, the God of Peaceful Death.

He also realises at the same time, as his small hands grasps on to her shirt, that these types of conversations will probably happen often, used distraction or not, and will likely be just as intrusive.

But then he is being tightly rocked, as she speaks on cheerfully, and he falls slowly, naturally, back into a fatigued half-sleep – and he elects, while he does, in a defining sort of moment, that he supposes the topic of their conversations doesn't really matter.

 _It is just rather nice having a parental figure aiming to help, distract me and offer me advice - as strange as it is._

.

"You didn't tell him how to alter his age, I see..." An amused male voice accuses from within his sleep encased darkness, and Harry feels a sudden plethora of oozing contentment, as a hand strokes his hair, neck and wings. He is still wanting to sleep, he accepts with a lot of easy admittance, but as the statement penetrates his mind, he arches into the fond touch and forces his eyes open at least a quarter of the way. He sees hardly anything, of course – though he still would with his eyes wide open, he silently adds – but notes the blur of bright molten gold eyes and a brilliant smile not so far from his face. Fingers wiggle a hello in front of his eyes.

"I told him we'd teach him everything he'd want when we met." Aphrodite corrects, sounding a little affronted at the allegation, but manages to look apologetic when she observes his awakening status, and hugs him again in compensation.

 _...How to alter his age?_ Harry repeats slowly, wondering if he heard them correctly, while attempting to push his mind into a lesser form of groggy consciousness with no small amount of force.He is sure no one mentioned that before - but then, he recalls, as if the memory was at the tip of his mindseye all along, that there were writings about that, weren't there? In his old primary school books, about gods and goddesses changing their physical ages or even gender? He blinks sleepily, and ponders on the thought, while he listens as best as he can.

"He has magic's Mark." Thanatos reminds the goddess, his amusement still apparent. "He doesn't have to be taught – he just has to be told how to do it. It is all Will and Intent, like with your previous wand waving." The god adds to him, and Harry's eyes open a little wider as a result.

It's really that simple? He wonders, a little sceptical, before he pauses and muses on it. If wizards and witches can alter their age by magic, then gods, he realises, can most likely alter theirs by simple will alone…

He sighs quietly, half dreaming on the possibility of being anything but a newborn, and mentally debates on whether to try and age himself a little now, or to wait until he has more energy. It takes seconds, really, to conclude that it wouldn't hurt to try right now – even if he fails, the worst-case scenario is to remain as he is – the horror – and managing to sleep some more.

He yawns a little, and then nods - flails jerkily, as is his attempt - and Aphrodite looks down at him woeful, her features falling into sorrow. Harry's heart twinges at it, and wants to reassure her that he won't age _completely_ even if he can - as much as he wants to.

"I haven't been able to keep a new born for so long." She confesses a little disappointedly, and Harry – through no will of hers – instantly decides that it's absolutely terrible. Mournfully criminal, in fact. "They all have to go and live with their other parents to be raised." She explains, kissing his forehead – much to his joint pleasure and embarrassment. "So, when you do age – no matter the age you do go to – can you maybe return to a young age when you come and stay with me or visit, like you agreed? At least for a century or so, perhaps?"

 _I already said that I would, didn't I?_ Harry thinks back fairly, holding back another yawn - though probably not for a century, though... And who knows? It might even be interesting, even with all of his teenage memories and knowledge of his true age and life. To see how normal children get treated and raised – and not just the mock-up attempts the Dursley's made with him or Dudley. In truth, he feels like he wouldn't really mind it at all, really, so long as he can move about of his own free will, and is big enough to defend himself if necessary.

Harry gurgles – hopefully for the last time – a somewhat reassuringly sound at Aphrodite's heartbreaking look, and she brightens, hugging him closer. Which, now he observes how he is lay upon her, seems impossible. "You really are brilliant." She whispers fondly. "I'm so happy that I got to nab you, instead of anyone else!"

 _Nab me?_ He echoes, as he abruptly sees a pile of floating white rose petals appear from nowhere and suddenly begin to circle him, captivatingly.

Thanatos hums, obviously entertained at the sight, while Harry grimaces a little, yet still seems unable to help himself from watching the flittering paleness, as they loop around him and begin to morph together with silver twine, creating what he believes is a crown – and he knows he is right when it delicately lands atop of his head.

"Beautifully brilliant." Aphrodite pronounces, smiling magnificently. "Now, how about you become a two or three-year-old, for now, then? I think that will be a perfect compromise for us all; I can still carry you, you can move about and talk, and Thanatos can still witness the early years of his first child."

 _That… that wouldn't be too awful,_ he agrees, yawning again, before he realises: _what does a two or three-year-old ook like anyway?_

 _Bigger than what I currently am,_ is what he thinks cynically as an answer, but that's all he has. There weren't many young children on Privet Drive, at least since he was one, and Hogwarts only admits eleven-year-olds. He blows out a breath, since he can't voice it, and decides that he'll just have to aim for a certain height, and then simply hope for the best.

He knows, when no other words come that he is being waited on, albeit patiently, to see if he's planning on doing it right then or otherwise. With their joint eyes on him, he can't help but nervously close his eyes and try. He almost rehears Professor McGonagall, as he does, strictly commending him on his Intent to Transfigure, in fifth year. "It's probably your stubbornness." She'd told him, one day, with no small amount of frustration, as she still smarted over one of his detentions with Umbridge. "Your father and mother had it in spades, too, so I suppose I'm not surprised..."

So... stubbornness, he reckons, telling himself firmly that he wants to be bigger. _I don't want to be a new-born,_ he thinks resolutely, _or a baby. So, I_ will _be_ _bigger_.

...

Or not.

He sighs gustily, and surprisingly takes immediate comfort in the encouraging whisper of his new parents. He pauses for a moment, and takes the time to focus, to think on his thoughts of current uselessness, and uses the emotion. There is minutes of nothing, minutes of silence, as he frowns frustrated with himself.

Until, eventually - _finally -_ it is like he drinks a small tea spoon of aging draught _,_ and abruptly _he grows_.

His new parents immediate proud statements, as they see what he feels – Thanatos' amused smooth comments of, "Well done." and Aphrodite's gleeful squeals – startles him, a little. He stops growing and flushes – he isn't really used to people's outwardly excessive positive gestures, after all, never mind by those he calls kin - yet he still grins widely, happily amazed and dazed – and more tired, he adds, after the fact.

He is only taller by a foot, it's true, but he is _bigger_ all the same, and his body is all in proportion for whatever age he is _._ Maybe two? And he sees clearly now, he eagerly notes; in truth, he sees _everything_ about him and concludes he is a rain forest, of all places. And he has _teeth,_ too _._ And appendages that listen to him. And he adds oddly - very oddly - he can also feel his wings, like he can his arms. He chooses to flutter them and they do as he wills, the second he wills it.

"I can fly." He remembers, and Thanatos grins wryly.

"You can fly." The god agrees, as Harry marvels over that and his voice; it is so very young and so bizarrely lovely. "And the mortals, unless they have the Sight or Godly Blood – or if they have your permission to do so – won't even notice them, even should you walk among them in the streets."

"The Mist hides them." Includes Aphrodite, collecting a close by flower to smell.

"The Sight?" Harry questions intrigued, while getting encouraged to smell it as well; his nose is really better, too. "The Mist?"

Thanatos takes a small breath, appearing contemplating, before he states, holding his arms out to Harry, that, "We may as well get comfortable – we do have a lot more to explain to you."

 _How much more?_ Harry silently remarks, but accepts the arms that take him. The content feeling, no longer surprising to him, returns full force. His new father smiles down at him, and Harry smiles back, before smiling at Aphrodite too, when he realises that he hasn't done that yet.

Aphrodite returns it and blows him a kiss, while producing a large and comfortable looking cloud, which reminds him of extremely large white marsh-mellows, cushions and cotton balls. She climbs on gracefully and easily, with almost expert precision, turning to face them.

"Are you getting on here?" She enquires, fluttering her blue-to-green eyes at Thanatos, who looks more like he'd rather disappear through the floor than do so. Harry, though – well, Harry can't help but admit that he wants to. It looks brilliantly perfect, like a Hogwarts bed mixed with fairy tales and comfort.

He leans forward without meaning to, and Thanatos sighs, deeply.

Aphrodite smiles and rolls over to make room.

Harry isn't ashamed to say it makes him happy, although it does - sort-of - remind him off Dudley climbing into his parent's bed at night, which then, in turn, makes him flush at the comparison, because it's not _in_ accurate, is it?

"What is it that you want to explain?" Harry asks, pushing the thought away, and deciding, as he is placed down, that clouds are marvellous to sit on.

"Everything, really." Aphrodite tells him, giving him another cup full of that golden liquid. "But we've marked up a schedule, so not to take all the fun out of things, and so today is a couple of hours of 'More Godly Facts' and some, 'Did You Knows'. Then we'll go on from there."

Thanatos shoots her an odd look, but agrees, as he climbs on with more difficulty. Harry thinks, as he does, that he looks surprised by its brilliance. "Don't add any rose petals." He warns the goddess, though. "I don't want to get into a fight with Ares or get locked in to a cage."

Aphrodite smiles wanly, yet appears a little annoyed to Harry's eyes. "Those cages are time consuming." She agrees, but then shrugs it off, "Don't worry, though – everyone knows how our little one was created."

Harry tries to distract himself from that line of thought, too, supposed thought-baby or not.

Thanatos changes the subject, with the words, "Let's begin.", and then Harry is quickly encased in information.

Firstly, he is told all about the mist – _a form of magic,_ Harry thinks, _that even effects the magical kin_ – and those with the Sight to see through it. Harry wonders, as he gets given a golden plater with "ambrosia" for a snack, if Luna could see through it – or could maybe see through _something_ like it. It makes sense, he decides, and accepts, excitement worming its way in to his chest, that he'll find out soon enough.

Then they go on to tell him more about "the lightening wielder" – names have power; don't say them unless you want them to turn and listen to you – and the other Greek deities; he learns who his siblings are, how to recognise everyone, what all their domains are, who offended who some millennia ago, what the latest gossip of them is, and everything in between. He is told in more detail about how he should always ask to enter someone else's physical domain - "The Lightening Wielder" for Olympus, "The Barnacle Man" for the sea, and "The Silent One" for the Underworld - as well.

Thanatos tells him reassuringly, after that, that The Silent One has already granted him entrance, and Aphrodite adds happily that so has The Lightening Wielder. None of them have spoken to The Barnacle Man though, so "who knows about him…"

Aphrodite even interrupts herself mid-sentence, as she begins another topic, to also add that he should never – not _ever –_ sit on anyone's seat in Olympus, else he gets hurt or blasted from the sky for it. "Or worse." Thanatos agrees, nodding ominously. "Many a foolish person has come my way for that – mainly Demi-Gods."

"I'll only sit on the floor or on your clouds." Harry says firmly in response, while deciding that with his ability to stumble upon chaos, seemingly anywhere, that hiding in the Underworld seems a far better idea, all in all. Thanatos seems to agree with his thoughts, as he says reassuringly, sinking further into the cloud, that he hardly ever goes there, anyway – and neither, in truth, does the The Silent One.

"Not by choice." Aphrodite whispers to him, conspiringly, as she smiles and drinks another "Nectar" – he also finally gets a name for the brilliant golden liquid.

Then they move on to something different altogether.

Time seems to bend, in truth, as they speak - and Harry knows that it's far longer than a couple of hours that pass them by, but they cover a lot of rather interesting and much needed things, so he doesn't truly notice it or voice anything when he does. He only truly observes the passing of time, in all honesty, when Aphrodite makes a comment about how he can "make himself into multiple versions of himself – like most gods and goddess do – so he can do a lot of different things, all at the same time.", that he blinks his new widening eyes and abruptly notices that the dawn light is gone, along with the days passage, and twilight is falling.

He feels much more dazed by her offhand admittance, though, than by the noted amount of time they'd apparently spent floating and talking in a rainforest – _and rightly so_ , he agrees with himself _,_ especially when Thanatos points out, eyes amused at his stunned air, that it technically means that once he learns how to, he can not only put a part of himself into protecting "everything he needs to", but also separate himself so he can have one version of himself with his new mother, one with his new father, _and_ have one in Elysium, one in Asphodel, and one on earth.

"While many other parts do your duties to your domain." Aphrodite nods, and that effectively brings Harry back from his brilliant astonished soaring wonder and slightly hot-headed flare-up that is fiercely demanding him to ask to be taught.

"Duties to your domain?" He gets out instead – because he doesn't really want a domain, never mind the _duties_ that go with it _–_ and Thanatos lifts up the small white bag. "Wait." Harry says understandingly. "So, while you're here with us, you're also out there, too, collecting all those that fall through the veil?"

"Many multiple versions, yes." Thanatos wryly agrees, "Usually I have to be in each hospital – and around towns, cities, and the like. All of the areas that are still under our jurisdiction, those who follow or believe in us, and, of coure, those who are blessed by us. We don't ever get time off –"

"We just try and make more of ourselves so we can have just as much fun, as well." Aphrodite concludes, nodding wryly, and staring at him, amused. "So, I suggest you relax _completely_ and _wholly_ while you can."

 _While I can,_ he echoes ruefully, leaning back into the cloud, feeling absolutely flabbergasted, and deciding then that the passing of the day definitely seems like a minor issue.

He closes his exhausted eyes at their joint stare, as they go into further detail - explaining about needeed to be whole in a fight, how it can sometimes leave you a bit thin in places - and contemplates that being a god is a lot more effort than he ever imagined it to be.

Not that he ever really did, or thought he would ever need to on a personal level.

He sighs lowly at the fact - at all the facts that had come, really, and all the facts that still do, over the next couple of hours.

 _At least,_ he thinks, _it's more interesting than the Hogwarts 'History of Magic classes... Even if it is more important to him, too._

.

For whatever reason, he finds that flitters of images pass through his mind; he sees people asking for his courage, asking why he didn't protect them, and others offering themselves up as a sacrifice. It enters his mind, takes him over, and then exits just as quickly, leaving nothing but strange thoughts, and bits of Voldemort's soul pieces instead, who attempt to steal his ankle and his blood, and tells him, in his taunting cold lethal voice, that he is too incompetent and fragile to stop him from taking it, or anything else.

Pure wild panic and fear fills his chest, but unwavering walls of contentedness soon drown it out.

Harry realises, belatedly, as he snaps his eyes open and feels drool falling from the corner of his mouth, that he must have fallen asleep again – that he must have a while ago, too, as he is sadly no longer floating on a large cloud, encircled by his godly parents, in a peaceful rainforest, learning all he can, but is in Thanatos arms instead, in the middle of a sunny populated place, with large buildings, bright colours and smiling people.

"You will need less sleep, if any at all, once you age a bit more - and I don't just mean physically." The god tells him with a fond smile, both as a hello and as an explanation, and Harry blinks, before accepting that. New borns and infants _do_ need more sleep from what he remembers, he blurrily admits. As do children. _It makes sense._

"Where are we?" He asks, voice thick with sleep, as he looks around. "And where's –?" Does he call his new parent Aphrodite aloud, or mum? Probably mum?

"We are in LA – Los Angeles, to be exact, in the USA." His father explains, "And your mother is back on Olympus. She isn't allowed in the Underworld, and we figured that is where you'd next likely want to go when you awoke."

 _The Underworld,_ Harry repeats, his brain sluggishly following along – then, his eyes abruptly widen, and he feels more awake than he has since regaining a body. "You mean I get to see everyone? _"_

Thanatos smiles down at him and hums in affirmation.

Harry's head stutters with a fuzzy happy surprise, while his heart beats with giddy anticipation.

 _He is going to see everyone,_ he thinks with buzzing excitement, _his parents, Sirius, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Dobby… everyone who died._ He is really going to see them all! And he's in _LA_ –

He finds himself wondering, even as he bounces in near-childish glee, " _Why_ is the Underworld in LA?" Although he does find it fitting - the city of angels.

Golden eyes shine down and his father shrugs elegantly, earning a longing glance by a passing man. "We move wherever the power of civilisation goes."

"The power of civilisation." Harry echoes. "Wait, so... that's America right now?" He can't help but be bemused by that, and imagines Magical England's reaction to it. Thanatos just raises an eyebrow in reply – which Harry assumes is an "obviously" – while he turns them towards a building that appears very high-maintenance to Harry's eyes. It's a rather tall building, with large windows and identical doorways, painted immaculately.

Thanatos gestures to it, as they walk towards the second entry way.

EMPLOYEES ONLY: _DOA RECORDING STUDIOS,_ Harry reads upon it, amusement spreading through him. _Well,_ he thinks, _someone either has a sense of humour or just likes to be perfectly honest…_

After the detailed descriptions of "The Silent One", Harry goes with the latter.

Still, "DOA..."

"Hm." Thanatos hums amusedly, before admitting, "We found it amusing."

"Understandably." Harry finds himself replying, with a wry grin and a snort.

They both enter the large clear glassed door, and walk into an equally large spacious entrance hall, all fire reds and brilliant silvers in décor. Harry sees that there are a couple of people gathered there, loosely standing about, while another woman - dressed in a black pencil skirt and a tight white button down shirt, with a name tag on - stands behind a desk and smiles widely at Thanatos, before crooning up in surprise at him.

"This is my son." The god tells the mortal woman, and Harry feels it's plenty bizarre being introduced as such; he is someone else's _son_. He wonders if his parents - James and Lily - will mind...? He pushes the thought away, as he flushes widely and instantaneously, as more than one person turns and crowds him, immediately declaring him beautiful and wonderful, and he wonders if all young children usually get mauled by overzealous strangers – or if, like most things, it seemingly only happens to him.

"His name is Hadreus." Thanatos says, and Harry reflects that a new naming shouldn't shock him as much as it does. "Though, he prefers Harry." Is added.

"Hi Harry." The group says, a half coo and half wistful awe, while Harry blinks back. _Hadreus..._ He can deal with that - accept it, possibly even like it.

"Say hi, Harry." Thanatos intones smoothly interrupting his thought process, and Harry debates if it's against any Divine Rules to glare at a god.

"Hi." Says Harry regardless, rubbing at his eyes. He notes that they all but melt into puddles of goo as he does. Their reaction makes him feel Boy-Who-Looked like, all over again – at least, on a good Hogwarts year.

"Well, we'll be going now, I think" Thanatos declares amusedly and nods to the woman and the rest. Harry decides to wave goodbye to them, as well, if only because he's being happily hauled away.

"They're the mortals who run the front – the actual recording company of DOA records." His father informs him, as he leds them down a corridor titled FOR TEAM ONE WORKFORCES ONLY, and towards an elevator, with the words 'PRESS DOWN FOR THE UNDERWORLD' stuck to the front.

"They think it's a joke..." Thanatos claims, and Harry snorts back a light laugh. He imagines that they do - well, why would they believe it? It's no different, he reflects, than no one realising that Kings Cross holds a secret train platform, or Scotlands grandest ruins being a very much still standing school of magic.

Thanatos hits the CALL button and the doors instantly ping open. Harry's insides start to squirm, and amongst the fluttering excitement of seeing everyone again, doubts slip in.

 _What if they don't believe that I'm really me?_ His mind hisses. _Or what if they already know, and end up being mad because I didn't choose to stay with them all? Not even for a single day?_

He bites his small teeth into his lower lip and drags a hand through his not Potter hair. _They wouldn't would they?_

Thanatos carries him forward with smooth strides, and soon happy music is filling Harry's ears, irrespective of his doubts, fears, and excitement. He wonders, as he tightens his grip, why Thanatos' usual echoing content isn't halting his sudden panic – possibly, more than likely, _dimming_ it. But it is still largely there, pulsating.

He takes in a deep breath and settles for reaching for the courage he's always had, while digging for the echo of Hagrid's wise words; _What'll happen, will happen. All we can do is meet it when it does._

Thanatos watches him, head tilted, and Harry somewhat ignores him, if he's honest, while he nervously and eagerly watches the silver doors, as the lift begins to steadily lower.

It is hardly a couple of seconds before the doors _pings_ once more _,_ and the doors steadily open.

"...Welcome to the Underworld, little one." Thanatos announces, and Harry admits, as he catches his first conscious sight of it all, that it feels like the words are echoed throughout the entire space.

 _Welcome indeed,_ he reckons it says, and he immediately feels safe and secure; like the walls both recognise him and welcome him, and will protect him should he ever have need of it.

He lets out his held breath, and admits that it heartens him more than he thought possible. More than seeing the Hogwarts Express after months at the Dursley's, more than seeing a Weasley jumper on christmas morning.

He looks about the room they step out in to and notes that it is all dark lighting, with floors made from marble and walls screaming of _Death_ – and although it is clearly _not_ Hogwarts, or anything like it, it too still invokes similar emotions within Harry _._ He guesses that the sudden bursts of trust and _home_ feel, and his obvious lack of fear or simple unease at the atmosphere, is because of his link with Death - or maybe due to him being the new son of Thanatos? Either way, he imagines anyone else would feel distress or dread here – _and unsurprisngly so,_ his mind wryly points out. _There are several skulls pinned to the walls, being used as candle holders._

The small light laugh he lets out would probably be more hysterical from any else, too.

"I'd let you look about, but I suggest we go and visit with The Silent One first." Thanatos advises him, as the doors firmly re-shut behind them. "He wants to meet you."

"Meet me?" Harry echoes, slightly nonplused. "Why?"

Thanatos leans back a little, to stare into his face, bemusement evident. "Well, there is more than one reason." The god muses, tilting his head. "Firstly, you are my new son. Secondly, you are his new godly resident. And thirdly, you defeated The Escaper and Cheat – he's been annoying the both of us since he was sixteen, and made that foolish decision."

 _The Escaper and Cheat…?_ Oh. "Voldemort – but I didn't defeat him. I mean, I –"

"You sent the majority of his soul here, and so you get the majority of the thanks." Thanatos interrupts, with a small smile.

"Er, alright then?" Harry says. Adding, as they begin moving again, "Does that mean Professor Dumbledore got some thanks, too, then? Is that why he was the one who met me?" It was one of his silent listed enquiries in the White Space. Why not Sirius? Or his mum and dad? "…And," While he is already asking questions he wants answered, "will – well, will Ron and Hermione get some thanks, too," He pauses, heart feeling a little heavier, and then hedges, "when they get here _?_ "

 _Are they alive?_ He hopes they are, even though he _knows_ there's nothing to fear from Death – or, he presumes, any god of it, or any other personification.

Thanatos opens another door, this one twice his height, and walks them through it, into another darkened hallway. "Your old Professor got more of a free pass for things previously done, if I'm honest. He was granted the right to greet you and offer you the choice because, as well as loving you, he had more to answer to, in regards to you. Although, he decided against being judged, he still wanted to explain for his own conscious and your peace of mind. As for your friends…" Thanatos trails off for seconds on end, and then grins, when Harry leans forward, near scowling. "Your friends have not passed into my territory, no," – Harry grins suddenly and widely, heart fluttering – "but they will get thanks of some kind when they do – perhaps even a boon - if only off me, for helping you – along with the soul named Neville Longbottom."

"He got the snake." Harry comprehends, proud of his friend.

"He got the snake." The god holding him concurs, "and the final piece – although those on the mortal plane are not truly sure on who _exactly_ did it. It was a toss-up between nine spells, that hit him roughly at the same time. Most," He smiles at Harry, "were incanted by your loved ones."

Harry realises two things, then. The first, that he is capable of feeling utmost pride at the knowledge of someones death, and secondly, that gods can cry and that their tears are golden tinted.

He clears his throat, mainly ignoring it. "That's good." He states instead, and it is. He's glad the world is free from that man's reign, and can hopefully heal and learn from the hatred. "Where abouts are we, anyway?" He adds, wiping a tear away. He knows nothing about the Underworld, after all, only that there are three main levels of After Life, and another inwhich is an Isle.

"In the Silent One's Palace." His father educates softly, making an effort to catch his fourth and fifth tear in an effortlessly created vial. "The elevator we went into can take you just about anywhere within this realm, as long as you have _his_ permission to do so. Hardly anyone uses it, usually; I don't normally have need to, as I use my own means to travel – and sooner or later, you will probably have your own, too. That is one of the entrances, though, and I'll show you all of the other entries, later." He pauses and holds up Harry's vialed glistening tears. "Not just anyone is worth your tears." The god whispers, placing it into his small hand, "so be careful just who you gift them to."

Harry stills at the double way it is stated, though knows it is meant in the more literal sense.

So, he is now capable of gifting someone with his tears, in a vial or otherwise, and they can…. do something, maybe?

He stares down at the liquid inside and silently debates on what properties it holds. Something tells him it's different with each being. He blinks up at Thanatos, who just eyes him with that soft fond amusement. "Okay." Harry says. His father nods, and carries him through yet another doorway.

"Be polite." Is all he communicates, and then, suddenly, they walk towards a large telling arch way, with echoes of darkness across its thresholf.

 _The room The Silent One is in,_ he thinks, abruptly panicked - and oh, merlin, is he right.

"Welcome Harry Potter." A voice cloaked in unending darkness says. "Or should I say, welcome Hadreus."

.

.

 **Okay, so I'm ending this chapter here, because I have them all planned out into sections, and the conversation with Hades is supposed to be in the beginning of Part One, Chapter Three, so it is going to be... Also, I can't quite tell if the latter half of this seems rushed...? I always seem to fail on comprehending that part... Eh, well. Thanks for reading!**


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